Pyro A Thieves' Tale
by BadWolfFile
Summary: A story set after the Keladry series, about a young street-mage named Pyro, and the current prince of the realm Prince Daniel, Roald's son. Rating is now M for naughty themes & some violence; they just can't keep their hands off each other.
1. Chapter 1

Numair Salmalín sighed as he was guided down the darkly-lit corridor. He was making an inspection of the mage prison, having wondered if any could be rehabilitated. So far, all the mages he had seen had been either completely insane or so close to death it would be kinder to kill them. "This is the final prisoner, Lord Salmalín."

The jail clerk bowed slightly, and Numair nodded and went into the cell when the door was opened. A tall young woman turned slightly from the view out of the barred window to watch the mage enter. Her eye-smartingly red hair tumbled down around her shoulders like flames and her amber eyes were hard and unforgiving.

Like the other mages, she wore a simple linen tunic and short pants. Her feet were bare and callused from heavy use. A thick metal band was clasped around an otherwise graceful ankle. Thick black tattoos in the shape of flames ran up her arms, and they actually moved like flames.

She watched Numair out of the corner of her eye with a kind of grim amusement. Numair looked her over: she looked like a street gang mage. He turned slightly to the clerk standing behind him. "Her name?" The clerk shook his head. "She refused give it, but apparently her gang mates called her 'Pyro' when they were caught." _"__Pyro." _Thought Numair. _"N__ot a name I recognise. Then again, this young woman is as unrecognisable to me as her assumed name."_

As Numair watched, the woman's tattoos writhed about her forearms. She soothed them with a small shake and continued to look determinedly out the window at the view of the harbour. Numair ventured further in cautiously: in the cells before, others had allowed him in before attempting to turn on him. The ankle bracelet they all wore inhibited their ability to use their Gift, but some were very desperate.

The young woman's amber eyes sparkled with true amusement when she glanced at him. When she offered no violence against him, he sat down next to her. He asked her name. "I do not recall the name my mother gave me, though I assume I had one of each. The others in my gang called me Pyro in reference to my Gift. That name will serve for now." Her voice a low hum as she replied; she was well-spoken, with a cultured air about her words. Numair posed another question. "Where is your family?"

Pyro fixed him with another amber stare. "I don't recall. My gang was the only family I needed." Numair nodded. "What Gift do you have?" he asked gently. She sniffed disdainfully, as royally inconvenienced as any true-born courtier. "I had taken you for a smart man, Master Salmalín. Obviously I was mistaken." Numair ignored the barb. "Just answer the question."

Pyro took an actors stance, inhaled and announced "I have the Gift of Fire, mainly. I also have the Sight, strong enough to tell when someone's lying." Numair was impressed: most of the mages in the prison were just petty Thief-mages. "Well, if you do not object I can have you rehabilitated and released."

Pyro's disdainful courtier manner never once slipped; Numair decided to set her loose on the young men of the Tortallan Court. If she didn't burn it down, then she would be the center of male attention. _"One step at a time." _He reminded himself. _"First I have to get her out of this Hellhole."_

When Pyro was given her own filthy clothes by the sullen-looking jailor, she was surprised. Amongst the rags was a note "I will wait for you at the entrance. Hurry down." It was signed, but Pyro knew who had written the note without reading the scrawled name: his magic was clear. Hastily she pulled off the linen tunic and pants and donned her own, familiar clothing.

With a winsome smile to the waiting guard, she strode quickly down the corridor, metal anklet clinking the whole while. Numair was waiting for her, just as he had written, with a carriage. She was helped inside, quickly, as the locals were starting to gather and a few were already pointing at Pyro's anklet and odd tattoos as they whispered about her ragged clothing and unwashed hair. She seated herself regally inside the carriage and, after Numair had entered and shut the door, the carriage moved off.

Pyro turned to the older mage, unusual amber eyes probing. "What is the real reason for setting me free?" Numair sighed and replied "because I don't like the idea of a gifted young lady spending the rest of her life in prison." He turned his equally strong gaze upon her. "Don't make me regret doing this." Pyro smiled chillingly, turning to gaze out the carriage window. "You won't."

Veralidaine Sarrasri, known far and wide as Daine the Wildmage, opened the door of the house with surprise. Her husband, Numair, stood there and with him stood a young woman dressed in rags. "Numair?" Daine questioned, blue-grey eyes probing.

Numair smiled innocently at his wife. "This is Pyro. She'll be staying with us for a while." Daine nodded, waiting until they were in private to question his motives for bringing a young woman into their home. "Father!"

Numair's twelve year old daughter ran to him and he picked her up, swinging her around and then planting a kiss on her cheek. She laughed, and Numair caught a look of amusement in Pyro's amber eyes.

She quickly hid it behind her usual demeanour and nodded as the other girl turned to gaze at the guest with unabashed interest. She came over to Pyro with her hand held out. Pyro smiled and shook her hand. Daine watched this, a smile hovering on her lips as her daughter was introduced: Pyro watched the young woman in front of her change one of her arms to an octopus tentacle, then a horse hoof and so on.

Pyro's face cracked into a grin and she told the other girl with all seriousness "That's quite a talent you have. If I could, I would show you my talents." The girl put her head to one side. "Why can't you show me?" she asked. Pyro smiled. "Because some friend's of your daddy's gave me this." She showed the girl her chunky anklet, and then inclined her head in goodbye as Daine called to her daughter.

At dinner, Pyro had exquisite manners. She complemented each of the dishes, saying that it was a delicious change from what she had endured in prison. After they were finished, Daine arose and put her daughter to her lessons. When she returned, she said "there's a bath awaiting you in your quarters, Pyro, and some fresh clothes. Tomorrow we can take you to a seamstress and buy you some clothing." Pyro inclined her head. "Thank you, Wildmage. I am indebted to you and your husband for your courtesy." She followed Daine up to the chambers that would be hers for a while, and shut the door with a sigh.

Numair was awaiting his wife with a cringing look in his eyes. "Why, Numair?" she asked the question evenly. Numair shrank a little as he replied "because she was sanest there, and I don't like the thought that a young woman with so much magic would spend the rest of her life as a prisoner." Daine nodded, sinking onto a couch. "She'll go to the palace tomorrow, and I'll see that she gets a proper education." Numair joined his wife on the couch.

Numair led the way through the streets, having to keep an eye on his charge. She was impossible to keep track of, greeting this person or that. He kept having to stop, look back and then stride forwards. This continued on the entire way to the palace. They were admitted with nary a glance, and Numair entered the castle.

Jonathan, former King of Tortall, was at that moment walking across the entrance hall, trailed by a short woman with silver hair and purple eyes and a tall man with ink stained hands and grey hair. "Ah! Numair. Just the man I wanted to see. What is your opinion about my son's latest trade manifesto?" Numair's dark eyes flickered to where Pyro was standing examining a vase then back at his king.

Jon caught his meaning and said "Right then. We'll discuss this later." Numair nodded and the trio of important people left the entrance hall. "Come along, Pyro." They walked through the halls towards the mages wing; if Pyro felt any kind of amazement at the opulence of the palace, she hid it behind a passive face.

Numair knocked on a door, and it was opened by a short man dressed in orange. "My lord Numair. What can I do for you?" asked the priest, head of the mages. Numair gestured to Pyro. "I've brought you a new student. She's already mastered her Gifts, but she's in need of training about when to use them."

Pyro stood in the middle of the circle with the priest standing opposite her. Numair was studying a scroll nearby, but his dark eyes kept straying to inside the sacred circle. Pyro's anklet had been removed so she could use her Gift and allow the priest to gauge the level of her training. She was asked to do several simple tasks, including setting fire to a rock. She did this without problems, and then sighed when Numair clasped the anklet around her ankle again. "I'm sure I can manage without it." She told the mage. He nodded knowingly and they left.

Pyro settled into court life with nary a ripple. Soon she was able to walk around the palace without her anklet, as she proved that (with training and meditation) she could keep control of her naturally fiery temper. At Midwinter she was allowed to join in the festivities, and as Numair suspected she was the center of attention.

Splendid in a rather simple red gown with a little gold embroidery and a small ruby choker, she impressed the cluster of young people around her with fire tricks. Her tattoos writhed each time she used her Gift, and her loose flaming hair caught the eye of even the blindest of observers. Numair watched the group ooh and ahh at the woman's ability to manipulate fire with a proud feeling. His own daughter was sick with a cold for that night; otherwise Pyro would have had some stiff competition.

Prince Daniel watched the strange mage with attentive eyes, bored with the Midwinter dinner. He was wishing he could join the gaggle of interested young men around the beautiful woman performing magic with ease. His grandfather, seated next to him, leaned over and whispered to him "she's very pretty, isn't she?" Daniel jumped, and then nodded. His grandfather smiled. "It makes me wish I was young again… ah well." Jonathan turned back to his wife, the greying but still lovely Queen Mother Thayet.

Daniel watched the amber-eyed mage move sensuously back to her seat as King Roald stood to begin a speech. "Friends. Tonight I toast you all as…" his father's voice faded as Daniel's blue eyes met the amber eyes of the young mage. She gazed at him with a boldness that belonged in the thief court of Corus. "And so I say: Congratulations to our people for another wonderful year!" the entire hall cheered and the last course was wheeled in.

Daniel's gaze-exchange with the young mage was broken by her when Numair Salmalín leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She laughed, breaking eye contact with the prince to look at Numair, and then looked back. She raised an eyebrow and smiled at the prince as the music began and couples moved onto the clear space in the middle of the feasting hall to dance.

Without knowing how he got there, he was standing in front of the mage: his body had moved of its own accord. The young men also approaching her paused when they saw the prince bow to her and take her hand.

Pyro arose and walked gracefully beside him to the floor. They took up their positions and joined in when a new song began. Daniel knew the steps to the dance, better than he knew the moves for sword-play, but he still managed to fumble. It might have been because of the lady's perfume; she smelled rather simply of pine needles.

As they whirled the lady said to the prince "my name is Pyro." The prince frowned. "Pyro?" he questioned, a small smile playing about his lips. She inclined her head. "It is as good a name as any. I cannot remember any other name." the prince nodded and concentrated on a particularly difficult move.

"You dance beautifully." She complemented him. Daniel smiled. "As part of my page training, we had to learn dances." Pyro smiled back, displaying perfectly straight, white teeth. "I imagine it was not your favourite lesson." The prince laughed, shaking his head. The song ended, and the prince was reluctant to hand over the mage to another young man. He returned to his seat, blue eyes remaining on Pyro's red gown and head as it whirled around the dance floor.

As the watch called midnight, Daniel wandered out into the gardens. The party was still in full swing, but he was tired of it all and he couldn't concentrate on anything but Pyro: the scent of fresh pine needles clung to his shirt and drove him to distraction. He had seen her be enticed outside with a mysterious young man dressed in black. As he wandered the gardens, he heard fast footsteps and turned fast enough to catch Pyro running away from the young man in black. Her gown was torn, and there were knives were in her hands.

She slowed and hid behind the prince when she recognised him. He drew his sword, which he had to carry at all times on the instructions of his knight master. The young man arrived, eyes glinting, took the situation in. He was breathing hard, but he bowed to the prince. "Your highness. You have interrupted our sport." Prince Daniel felt Pyro tense behind him. "I don't think the young lady is interested in your 'sport'." The young man held out his hands in innocence: they were shiny with burns.

Instead of appeasing his prince, it made him angry. "You would dare touch an unwilling woman?" the man cringed a little, fearing the retribution of attempted rape. "Please, highness. It was just a bit of fun!" Two guards, on routine patrol, came strolling over. "Everything alright, your highness?" one asked, saluting.

"No they aren't. Arrest this man." The soldiers hustled the young man off, and Pyro turned to the prince, knives disappearing beneath her clothing. "Thank you, but I was managing it… he ruined my dress." Daniel raised a dark eyebrow. "You didn't appear to be managing." Pyro's amber eyes glowed eerily in the darkness as she snapped "I'm not a palace pretty, to look at and not to touch. I was raised on the streets of Corus. I can take care of myself." The prince was surprised, but managed to contain his deluge of questions enough to help Pyro to the nearest bench.

She sat and dug into her purse for a needle and thread, pulling out an assortment of strange objects and putting them on her lap. Daniel watched, amazed, as she pulled out more and more small things; a small twisted twig, a chunk of polished amber with a small insect encased inside… and a piece of coloured glass in the shape of a love-heart.

"Are you spoken for, then?" he asked before he could stop himself. Pyro looked down at the glass and picked it up, smiling fondly. "No. This was a gift from an old friend of mine when we were both members of the same gang as children. I miss him." Daniel turned his head, surveying the now-quiet gardens. "What happened to him?" he asked, dreading the answer.

Pyro smiled sadly. "He was killed fighting a rival gang." Immediately Daniel apologised, but Pyro shrugged. "It was a long time ago now. Tell me about yourself; what was it like, growing up in the lap of luxury?" she said it almost bitterly. Daniel sighed. "It's not as great as it sounds. Even now, I'm plagued by those who want titles, free of responsibility, and I'm only the second in line for the throne! Always having to present the same face; never free to be myself."

Pyro blinked at him, her amber eyes mischievous. "Why don't you come down into the city sometime? I could introduce you to some very interesting people." The prince sighed. "But I don't get much time off from my lessons." Pyro grinned. "What's most of your spare time made up with? Punishment work?" when Daniel didn't answer, but blushed, Pyro grinned even wider. "Stop getting into so much trouble."

She fell warily silent as a couple walked past together clearly looking for a private place, then quietly told him "We'd have such a time! Come out with me after Midwinter. It'll be fun, I promise." Daniel, now intrigued with this woman, nodded. "Ok. I'll come. But I'm not to be known as Prince Daniel, ok? I'm simply going to be Danny, a wealthy merchant's son who met you on a street corner and you charmed into visiting." Pyro nodded supressing a smile. And besides, if anyone questions where you're going, you can just tell them that you're finding out about your people."

When Daniel didn't reply, she shrugged. "Or you could tell them that you're meeting a girl. Either way. It's not my concern." Daniel gave a burst of shocked laughter, and then stopped as Numair appeared out of the darkness like a giant bat. "Pyro. We're leaving."

The woman nodded and rose gracefully; she had repaired her dress so well that it was indistinguishable. She curtseyed politely to the Prince and said "Thank you, highness, for a most engaging conversation." When he arose to bow back, she took his hands and kissed his cheek, then swept away into the night with Numair, lighting her way with a circle of multi-coloured fireballs. Daniel watched them leave, then realised she had put something in her hand. Calling an orb of pale blue light, he read the note and smiled.

Pyro was awaiting the prince on the corner of Market Street. She was dressed plainly in nondescript clothing, but her hair caught and held attention. Several members of the city watch, a rough crew of commoners hired by the royals to keep the peace, were standing nearby and eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and lust. She seemed to take no notice of them, but beneath her fiery lashes she watched their every move as well as the moves of people around her.

Daniel strode through the street, dressed in the same manner as she. When he saw her hair he made a beeline straight for her: she was casually examining a stall with fruit piled high and lots of busy customers, but she turned to her friend when she felt his approach and grinned. "Danny! So good to see you again." She kissed his cheek, and he blushed adorably.

"Come on. Let's go explore." She led him away from the stall and in the middle of the road revealed two stolen fruits. When Daniel's mouth gaped, she tickled his chin shut again with a bulky hand. "Lighten up. These were the cheapest fruit there; no one will notice two extra gone." She bit into the fruit, tearing the rough skin off it expertly with her teeth.

Daniel watched her, then pulled out a knife and skinned it delicately. She laughed at his dainty movements, made difficult by the jostling crowd, and spat a shower of seeds over a patrol of city watch. The seeds rained off their rusty armour, and the leader span to try and see who had spat. Pyro ignored them, refusing to meet his glaring gaze. She tossed her hair and continued on her way, striding with purposeful steps towards a darkened alley. Daniel followed, munching on the sweet fruit, amazed at her boldness.

She led him down several back alleys towards a seedy-looking tavern. She was nodded to by a hulking man standing by the door with a club, and greeted with loud hellos by the people inside. "And who's this charming young man?" a friend of Pyro's asked, eyeing the boy in a way that made him squirm. "That's Danny, a new friend of mine." The other woman winked and said "I know the kind of friend you mean. The world needs more of them." Pyro laughed, and then laughed harder as Daniel blushed. They took a seat at a grimy table and were served by a buxom waitress.

Leaning in quietly to Pyro, Daniel asked "is it always like this?" Pyro shrugged. "Normally it's harder to get into. People must be out of town." Her amber eyes scanned the crowds, and then she froze as someone dressed in black entered. "Uh oh…." her ambers eyes flicked to where the king of thieves was seated with his loyal friends surrounding him. "This is going to get ugly, but I'll bet my best knife that he's got men posted at all the entrances to stop people leaving." Daniel nodded, watching the man look around and then stride over to the king.

The king himself was sitting with his feet up and a tankard of ale halfway to his mouth. "You. What are you doing here?" the king asked, setting his feet on the floor and his tankard on the table. The newcomer shrugged. "I thought I'd see how my mortal enemy's going… and stake once again that the kingship is rightfully mine."

The king glared at him, and as the newcomer yawned widely and stretched; his eyes roamed the room and rested upon Pyro. She merely narrowed her eyes and continued to watch, but she was glowing even more brightly in Daniel's Sight. If the newcomer tried something, he would be fried by Pyro. Daniel gathered his own magic in preparation too, wondering if he would survive his first foray into the city.

The standoff lasted only a few moments before the newcomer drew a dagger and lunged at the thief King. Pyro threw up a wall of flame and Daniel a wall of force at the same moment, causing the new man bounced off, and thieves engaged in a vicious struggle. Pyro drew daggers from various hidden places, passed one to Daniel and entered the fight with daggers blazing in magical flame. He stayed next to her, fighting by her side as they made their way towards the king. "Protect the king!" Pyro called, and thieves from the tavern formed up around the throne.


	2. Chapter 2

Pyro watched in horror as Ulrich drew a sword and lunged again at the king, her flames parting harmlessly for him. With a snarl she followed him, kicking and biting in the places where her daggers and Gift were too dangerous or unwieldy to manoeuvre.

Suddenly there was an open space between her and Ulrich, who was just raising his sword above the king's bloodied head. Realising that there was no way in the Underworld that she was going to reach him in time, Pyro just drew back her arm and threw the dagger in her left hand – that hand that had always been the steadier of the two.

Daniel struggled with a large enemy thief, combining his Gift with his knack for small-weapons combat to drive the much larger man back. He looked around desperately for Pyro, worried that she was going to get overly-excited and burn everyone, and managed to spot her flaming red head disappearing into the crowd of struggling bodies around the Thief King's throne. "Pyro!" He slammed the man's head against the wall a couple of times (and then a few more times for good measure) before he started shoving his way through the struggling thieves towards Pyro.

He saw her left arm draw back and the dagger fly from her hand in slow-motion. Instinctively he knew it had been a good throw, and his eyes followed its passage through the air as it flipped tip over handle over tip and sank deep into the bicep of the man raising his sword above the Thief Kings' head.

The world resumed its normal pace and Daniel continued to push his way through the crowd, narrowly avoiding having his ear cut off by a wayward dagger. Another dagger swung past him, slicing his cheek just deep enough to draw blood. He shrugged the slight pain off and continued to push his way through, eyes fixed on Pyro.

She was already leaping across the room, feet extended in an all-or-nothing jump aimed at taking out Ulrich before he could recover from her knife-throw. They connected and he went down, but he twisted as he fell and so she landed badly on her arm with a cry of pain.

"Pyro!" Daniel finally managed to catch up with her, and she looked up at him with her amber eyes furious. "Danny! Protect the King!" Daniel turned to find the attacking thief getting to his feet, looking dazed from Pyro's kick. He shook it off quickly, and grabbed the dazed king by his shirt with his good arm.

Daniel strode forwards, Gift blazing as his anger grew; this man had hurt Pyro! A fist of magic clasped around the man's injured arm and squeezed, and he dropped the king with a cry of pain. The thief turned his dark, baleful eyes on the young prince with hatred, and suddenly Daniels' magic was snuffed out.

He tried to raise it again, already feeling the drain, but it was gone before he could grasp it together to raise any kind of defence as the man rushed him. His fist connected solidly with Daniels' face, but the younger man countered him giving as good as he got. The wild brawl-style of fighting utilised by the thief was no match for the well-practised moves of the prince, and the attacker went down to lie unconscious at Daniel's feet.

Pyro had managed to get to her feet sometime between the first punch and the last, and she was checking the king. The moment their leader went down, the enemy sides' bravado shattered and they ran like deer away from the staunch defence by the thief-kings' loyal servants.

Daniel casually stepped over the unconscious form of the thief before him like he was garbage in the street and pulled some smelling salts from his pocket to help Pyro wake the king. "Are you ok?" although he was waving the acrid-smelling vial under the kings' nose, Daniel's attention and worry was on Pyro. Her shoulder was at a weird angle and her tattoos were writhing like mad, but she nodded and managed a small smile as she murmured "that was exciting." The king started to come around then, and the two of them retreated as a street-Healer rushed to his side.

Daniel helped Pyro to a chair, a worried frown creasing his forehead. She looked up at him and laughed, amber eyes glinting. "Don't look so worried." She braced her arm against a nearby table and slowly started turning it until her shoulder popped back into place with a sickening crunch.

Daniel was shocked, but she just swung her arm experimentally a few times and then nodded at him. "The arm's fine… but your face isn't." she stood and took his face between her hands, eyes running over his face. His heart started beating unreasonably fast, and he was sure she could hear it.

She gave no sign and just dabbed some antiseptic from her deceptively-deep pockets on the cut. "You're going to look a right mess when you go back." He shrugged as casually as he could, face reddening more as the seconds ticked by, and just muttered "I'll get someone to put some bruise balm on it when I get back, that'll clear it up."

She blinked at him for a second, and he saw something that looked a lot like jealousy start in her eyes as she dropped her hands from his face and turned away to put her things back into her deep pockets. "Pyro…?" suddenly he was worried that he'd upset her somehow, but she turned back to him with another bright smile. "What do you want to do now that I've shown you what a thief-brawl looks like?" he laughed, reassured by the happy sparkle in her eyes, and the two of them headed for the door.

Thinking back, Daniel wasn't even sure what the two of them did that day; the hours were filled with meaningless but irrepressibly funny chatter and banter between the two of them as they wandered the city, sticking their noses where they probably shouldn't have. Pyro performed feats of agility, acting like they were nothing, and Daniel tried to impress her with his strength.

At one point he picked up a stray kitten from the street and acted like it was the heaviest thing in the world, and Pyro giggled madly. Her laughter made him feel good, and he put the mewing kitten back on the ground with elation bubbling up inside him; he'd never felt anything close to this when he was with a girl before.

They headed for the night market by the docks in the evening, their jokes and banter continuing all the way down the street. The night market was still festive from Midwinter, and there were entertainers and street performers all over the place. Even in the chilly night air there were still crowds of people, but Pyro just took Daniels' hand and led the way through them with no problem.

She led him to a stall that was selling hot food and sweets, and bought them each something warm and a sweet for later. Daniel watched her hand over the due coins suspiciously, and when she led him away towards the waters' edge he asked her quietly "where did you get the money for those? You didn't steal it, did you? Because I would have paid for the food…"

She smiled at him, again flashing those perfectly straight white teeth in that smile that made his heart flutter as she sat down on the edge of a pier and kicked her legs over the edge of it. "My dear Daniel, you did pay for it. You just don't know you did." He put a hand to his belt-purse and noticed that it was significantly reduced in weight, but he just joined her on the edge with a sigh and didn't say anything.

She looked out over the frigid waters of the bay, shivering slightly in the cold wind that was blowing in off the chilly sea. After a moments' hesitation Daniel scooted closer and put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled up at him and moved closer to his warmth, and again he was a little overcome by her delicate scent which now that he could smell it better, apparently had hints of rose in it.

"I used to look out over the bay when I was younger and dream that I could escape the dreary life I led, to a more adventurous one in another land. My favourite one was that I was a treasure hunter in Carthak that fought pirates… except for some reason we always ended up having tea on a giant treasure pile."

They both grinned at the image of a younger Pyro having tea with Carthaki pirates, but the nice shared moment was shattered when the faint but unmistakable sound of the evening bell rang down from the palace.

Daniels' eyes widened as he remembered that he was meant to be back hours ago. Reluctantly he got to his feet and held a hand out to Pyro, telling her "I have to get back." She took his hand and was helped up, and then she walked quickly down an alley that was heading away from the palace. Daniel watched her go, confused and a little upset that she hadn't even said goodbye, but she poked her head out again and beckoned quickly to him.

The prince joined her, and found a tall ladder leading to the roof of the building. "This is the quickest way to the palace, even if it seems to backtrack a fair bit." She leaped up the ladder, as agile as a cat, and he followed a little more slowly.

When they were on the roof, Pyro took off at a smooth run, heading for the edge. Daniel watched her in horror as she leaped over the gap, but she landed on the next roof with no problem and then turned to see what the holdup was. He shrugged and, putting his life in her hands yet again, ran after her.

They raced across the rooftops, Pyro taking a few obviously unnecessary risks to show off. Finally she slid down another ladder ahead of him, and if he hadn't been watching she would have appeared to just disappear off the face of the earth.

He cautiously followed her and found himself right outside the palace gates. Pyro was standing there grinning, and Daniel scratched his head in puzzlement. "How the hell did you do that? I was sure that we were heading away from the palace…" Pyro shrugged. "I told you, it's the quickest way to the palace." He just shook his head disbelievingly, and then turned to say goodbye to Pyro.

He offered a hand to shake, but she batted it away gently with the small smirk of a city girl who knew what she wanted. Daniel got up some courage and managed to meet her glorious amber eyes, which were a lot closer than he'd originally thought. The prince badly wanted to kiss her, but somehow Pyro made him feel so unsure of himself and yet so bold he'd take on a whole pack of angry Spidrons in their own territory just to protect her. She obviously got fed up with waiting, because she simply took a half-step closer to him, stretched up and kissed him delicately on the lips.

Pyro was gone by the time Daniel opened his eyes, leaving only the lingering scent of roses and warmth on his lips. He touched them, feeling strangely light-headed, and headed in a dreamy fog for the gates.


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel somehow made it through the dark corridors to his bed, collapsing on it in a daze. His head spun, and he lifted his fingers to his lips: the lips that had touched hers, even for only a little while. He closed his eyes, letting the memories of the day spin around and around; he got up long enough to take off his shirt, and found to his delight that his shirt smelt like crushed pine needles with a hint of rose. He fell onto the bed again without changing, almost instantly asleep, boots still on, above the covers with his head nestled in his shirt.

"**Morning sunshine!"**

Daniel awoke when his knight master, the irritatingly-cheerful Sir Nealan of Queenscove, dumped cold water unceremoniously over his head. The prince sat up spluttering as Nealan stepped back, still grinning at him. "I was expecting to see a young lady in bed with you this morning. I'm terribly disappointed in you."

The boy groped around for a towel, finding his shirt from last night and wiping his face with it. He inhaled, and breathed in Pyro's scent again; it was fainter, but it was there. "Sir Nealan…" he sighed, and lowered the shirt from his face. "I think I'm in love…" The knight looked at him funny. "Well… that's interesting… you mean with Numair's pretty redheaded protégé, right? Not with me… because you know I'm a married man…" Daniel glared at him, already regretting telling him.

Sir Nealan laughed and patted his shoulder. "Let me tell you something… you'll get over it. I remember when I was your age I had a new crush almost every week, and every week I was convinced that I was completely head-over-heels in love with her…" The knight walked out of the room, listing the girls on his fingers, and Daniel stared at the floor: the possibility that it might only be a temporary infatuation made him cold. What was even worse was the idea that she might not feel the same way.

He knew they were both young, but he just couldn't believe that it wasn't real. He'd had crushes before: his earliest had been on his pretty governess. None of them had given him the same tingly feeling and had made him feel so wonderful when he was with her.

In the back of his mind a little voice was reminding him that, although he was not the crown prince, he would still have to marry for the benefit of Tortall. He pushed the little voice away: he decided not to worry about that yet. Helpfully Sir Nealan returned, grabbing the boy's jousting helmet and throwing it at him. "Let's go actually get something done today, while the sun is still out."

Daniel brushed his big charger in the warm stable automatically, saddling the horse in a nicely-padded jousting saddle quickly and then waiting for his knight master to inspect the horse. Sir Nealan went over the horse thoroughly, deciding that it was well done enough for them both to lead their horses out of the stable and into the jousting yard.

The yard was covered in hard frost: looking at it, Daniel gulped and knew it was going to hurt more than usual when he fell off. The midwinter sun glinted off the icicles hanging from fence and the horses' breath steamed as they pranced in the cold air. The joints of his jousting armour were starting to seize up, and the prince considered asking Sir Nealan if the lesson could wait. He looked over to see the knight already in his saddle, and grumbled about the man's idea of fun.

As Daniel was boosted into the saddle, he thought he saw a flash of fiery red hair disappearing into the shadows nearby. Blinking, he decided he'd imagined it and concentrated on the practise: the jousting took all his concentration. Sir Nealan and he rode a few passes at each other, and each time Daniel reconsidered his choice of lifestyle. Eventually he was flung from his saddle and as he flew through the air he thought _"being a scribe isn't such a horrible profession…"_ and blacked out when he hit the ground.

"Daniel? … Daniel…" he opened his eyes blearily and saw red hair, and groaned "Pyro…?" there was a small manly chuckle and his vision cleared to see Sir Nealan leaning over him. "Not exactly. You ok?" Daniel sat up, and coughed: his lungs hurt. The knight helped him stand; watching the prince lean against his concerned horse, he nodded. "I think we should call it a day. Your father will complain if I knock you on your arse much more before the ground softens." Daniel was glad to agree, and led his shivering horse back into the stable for a good rub down and a carrot.

When he got back to his room he was glad to shed the armour: a pair of helpful hands worked at the buckles of his breastplate and then helped him slide out of it. He turned to look at what he assumed was a servant, and felt his jaw drop when he saw who it was: Pyro was stunning in a white wool gown with red flame-shaped embroidery at the cuffs of her sleeves and adorning her neckline. She wore no jewellery and her hair was loose, and his breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. "I saw you get your butt handed to you by your knight master. The fall looked like it hurt so I brought you something."

She turned to the table and uncovered a tray; three mugs, fruit and sweetrolls were revealed with a flourish. "My gang leader used to give us this during the winter, when we could steal the ingredients. Before she died she passed the recipe on, and I've pretty much been making it every winter since… would you like to invite Sir Nealan to join us?"

Daniel frowned and fought down the urge to say no, that he wanted her all to himself, but struggled up from the chair and went to find his knight master. The man was happy to join them, bowing to Pyro. She laughed and curtsied back, and then handed them both a mug. "It should be ok to drink now." Daniel sniffed it; the smell of it was warm and spicy. He looked at Pyro and saw that she'd taken a seat on his bed, leaving her shoes on the floor as she tucked her legs up underneath her body like a cat.

Without thinking Daniel gulped the drink, and almost choked; he was unprepared for the medley of spices playing on his tongue. She laughed at him and suggested that he eat a sweetroll, and he shoved one in his mouth with a dull flush colouring his cheeks. Sir Nealan watched the two of them, much too interested for Daniels' liking, and sipped his own drink. He nodded. "This is good."

Pyro smiled a bit, looking at her mug. "We called it 'miracle drink' because it always made us feel warm and good, no matter how bad a day we'd had or how cold it was wherever we were squatting. We used to sleep in a big pile like dogs do to keep warm." She put her mug down on the bedside table, and pulled at a loose thread: the tattoos on her hands writhed a bit as she stared at the floor.

Daniel got up and sat next to her, wanting to hear more of her story. She relayed it without looking up, and the prince thought he saw tears in her glorious amber eyes. "Most of us were runaways… all walks of life. Our leader was called Spike, because she wore a spiked slave collar as a kind of defiance of her old masters. We weren't very inventive with names. If a kid didn't have a name, they were called by whatever their defining feature was. I don't really remember how I joined; I was wandering, lost. I can't remember anything before that night, not my name, nor what my parents looked like."

"It was good for a while… we found a good place to set up a home, made it all cosy and nice, and even started increasing our numbers. Then a rival gang decided to move in on our territory… the warfare was hideous. People don't realise how much damage you can do with a rock if your heart is in it. By the time the war ended, most of the kids in both gangs were dead or dying. The watch turned up and hauled me off to jail, since I was about the only one still standing…"

She took up her mug again and almost without realising it Daniel put his arm around her. She leaned on him and took a sip. "Jail was horrible but I got paroled because I was so young. They sent me to work in a fine lords' house… the son decided to take liberties with me. I lost my temper, burned down the house and the lord's son with it, and back to jail I went. It was meant to be forever… until Numair came. He's a strange man… not many would see past a convicted criminal and believe that one is capable of bettering oneself."

The three of them sipped in silence, and Daniel looked up to find that his knight master had polished off all the food. Sir Nealan just smiled at him. "If you're hungry you can always take Lady Pyro here and go get something to eat… I don't need you til this evening." Daniel blinked, unbelieving, and then looked at Pyro; she was watching him with an unreadable expression in her stunning amber eyes. Almost imperceptibly she nodded and he grinned, dashing off to find something to wear that wasn't sweat-soaked training gear.

Sir Nealan stood with a groan; while not a serious man in any sense of the word, he nonetheless looked at the girl on the bed with a serious expression. "Don't toy with his emotions. It's a cruel game and I'm responsible for his health, emotionally as well as physically." He sighed. "I never was very good at matters of the heart."

Daniel returned quickly and watched his knight master leave, wondering why the man was muttering about girls again; he offered his arm to Pyro, and she stood so gracefully that he almost choked. She picked up a long red coat, double-buttoned, and pulled it on before she took his arm; the two of them moved out into the castle, neither looking back.


End file.
